


whilom

by weatherzane



Category: One Direction (Band), Watchmen (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-07 00:56:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6778270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatherzane/pseuds/weatherzane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn lowers his hand slowly – the rock formation tumbles into a mess. He moves so he’s eye level with Niall. “You mean the world to me.”<br/>Niall’s jaw clenches. “What world? Earth, which you don’t give two shits about? Or this… <i>playground</i> of yours?”<br/>Zayn takes a step back, his brow furrowing. “It’s just an–”<br/>“I know, I <i>know</i> it’s just an expression.” Niall rubs his forehead, tries to forget every time he’d said that phrase to Zayn… before.</p><p> </p><p>Or, Zayn suffers a nuclear accident, and Niall can't handle it anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	whilom

Zayn closes his eyes, temporarily blocks out the constant, overwhelming barrage of information. He takes a deep breath – although, strictly speaking, he doesn’t have to anymore – and tastes the air; the citrus tang of argon, the bitter burr of iron, the rich sweetness of methane. Sometimes, it's satisfying to just remember that life can build itself, he isn’t the only one capable of it.  
  
He opens his eyes.  
  
He’s ready.  
  
His right pinkie twitches, and someone else appears next to him. For a moment the new person is frozen, wide-eyed and tense, then he relaxes when he sees where he is.  
  
The new person frowns. Rolls his eyes.  
  
“’Least you gave me oxygen this time.”  
  
Zayn flicks his wrist, moving chunks of rock around: a delicate balance game in construction. “I’ve apologized for that every time I’ve seen you. Again, I’m sorry.”  
  
New guy folds his arms. “Could’ve died.”  
  
“You know I would never let that happen, Niall.”  
  
“Do I?” Niall’s eyes flash, a little warning. “Doesn’t half feel like we’re complete strangers to me.”  
  
Zayn lowers his hand slowly – the rock formation tumbles into a mess. He moves so he’s eye level with Niall. “You mean the world to me.”  
  
Niall’s jaw clenches. “What world? Earth, which you don’t give two shits about? Or this… _playground_ of yours?”  
  
Zayn takes a step back, his brow furrowing. “It’s just an–”  
  
“I know, I _know_ it’s just an expression.” Niall rubs his forehead, tries to forget every time he’d said that phrase to Zayn… before.  
  
Before.  
  
Before, Zayn was human. He had crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiled, he had crooked teeth which just made his grin sweeter, he had… emotions. True emotions, not the sympathy he tries to synthesize now. Giggling at a ridiculous special effect in a movie, cuddled on the couch. Crying in the heat of a fight. Awe at seeing something new and beautiful.  
  
_After_ , his only real “feeling” is deep thought. He tried to keep up the charade for a week or so, until Niall broke down and told him to leave, just get the fuck out.

Niall’s pulled out of his own head by Zayn taking his hand. It sends pins-and-needles tingles down Niall’s arm, but he knows it’s just Zayn now, has nothing to do with their chemistry anymore.  
  
“C’mon. Want to try something.”  
  
Niall hates himself for reacting to something so small, but his heart thumps painfully hard when he realizes Zayn had dropped the “I.” He always did that… _before_ , and hearing a faint echo of that speech pattern – well, Niall can’t tell if he loves or hates it.  
  
He swallows, nods, and the two of them float up about fifty feet and hover there, looking down at the barren planet’s surface.

Being able to perceive everything, every possible outcome of atom collisions, Zayn figured out how to fly incredibly quickly. Well, he would put “fly” in quotations, it isn’t really _flying_. But the science behind it, forcing oxygen to bond with denser molecules to keep him buoyant, basically equates to flying. Teleportation was another easy matter: wormholes. All you have to do is fold space-time, poke a hole, and step through. Fix the hole, smooth it all out again, and there you have it. The “magic” went out of Zayn’s life extraordinarily fast, but it was replaced by understanding. It seemed a fair trade to Zayn; if only he could help Niall feel the same way.  
  
Niall.  
  
Niall is really the only thing that makes Zayn uncomfortable now. Emotions can usually be predicted by science – chemicals in the body, heart rates, brain wave functions – but Niall is an enigma to him. Any time he tries to say “the right thing,” it just gets him a faceful of insults and no one to lie next to at night.  
  
At least this time, Niall’s depending on Zayn to get back home.  
  
However, he doesn’t have to keep holding Zayn’s hand to stay in the air. Zayn wonders for a moment if he knows that, then tucks the thought away. Wondering isn’t something he should be doing anymore.  
  
He turns his attention to the planet. It’s a fairly small one, about half the size of Earth, so from fifty feet up, the horizon is easily visible, miles and miles off, all of it crater-pocked rock and dust. He had something planned for this planet, and he’s about to carry it out.  
  
Right hand raised, he brings his fore- and middle fingers together, and touch both to his thumb. The ground under them shakes, rumbles, trembles. He pulls his hand back, and a chunk of the planet as big as his body rises from the rest. He slips his fingers in, makes a fist, and the chunk of ground begins collapsing, subtly shrinking.  
  
“What’re you doing.” Niall asks at his side. It’s barely even a question, just a hushed demand to explain. Zayn has gone past the point of submitting to instinct, but – he gets an impulse to squeeze Niall’s hand, so he does.  
  
A few minutes pass in silence, Niall and Zayn watching the ball of rock slowly crumple in on itself. When Zayn deems it complete, he brings it to Niall, stops it at arm’s length. It’s about the size of Niall’s forearm now, and shining faintly.  
  
He lets go of Zayn’s hand as if in a trance, brings his hands together to cup them just under the rock. Zayn releases it, and Niall staggers a little under its weight. “Christ, what _is_ this?”  
  
Zayn tilts his head, stares at the rock. “It’s sort of like a diamond. Of course, this rock has no carbon in it, but put enough and the right kind of pressure on any type of rock and it will go through a similar process. Brush off the layer of dust that collected.” He drifts off, starts carving canyons and shaping cliffsides.  
  
Niall watches Zayn for a moment, then looks down at the rock. Now that he’s used to the heft of it, he likes how solid it feels, how smooth it is under his fingertips. He trails his forefinger gently through the dust, takes his time revealing the surface under it.  
  
It’s breathtaking.  
  
Niall’s never seen anything like this stone before. It has the refraction of a diamond and the colors of an opal; every angle gives him a different and unique spark of color. It’s semi-transparent, and the fact that he can almost see his hand through the stone gets his head spinning.  
  
He tears his eyes away, a headache beginning to pound just behind his eyes, and sees a man-made paradise.  
  
Well… maybe not _man_ -made.  
  
There are mountains so high he has to crane his neck back to see the tops. There are crevasses so deep that he can’t even see the bottom. There are smooth valleys and hills with rough texture. It looks like another Earth, without water or life.  
  
Zayn is standing – not floating, for once – in the center of the biggest crater on the planet, fiddling with three balls of rock. It looked like juggling, but Niall can never be sure what exactly Zayn is doing anymore.  
  
“Zayn.” Niall’s voice doesn’t sound like it carries, but Zayn turns to look at him, so he lifts the stone an inch or two. “Thank you.”  
  
“It was a bit of an experiment; never used that rock that way before.” Zayn turns back to the rocks.  
  
Tears start welling up in the corners of Niall’s eyes. His grip on the stone tightens, and he braces himself to talk to Zayn.  
  
Of course, he’s one step ahead. “You’re upset.”  
  
“No shit.”  
  
“It’s because of me.” It’s a statement, but allows a response in the negative.  
  
Niall’s lips tremble. “Mhm.”  
  
Zayn closes his eyes and says nothing for a long time. Niall is about to say something when he speaks up, his voice quiet and collected: “You still love me.”  
  
All the air whooshes out of Niall’s lungs. He stares at Zayn, searching for any sign he was joking even though he knows Zayn doesn’t joke. Not anymore. His voice wavers when he talks. “Of _course_ I still love you, you colossal idiot! My feelings for you didn’t go away when you… when… the accident happened. I _miss_ you, Zaynie. Every day.” He looks away, can’t meet Zayn’s eye. The old affectionate nickname burned on his tongue, and he wishes he could just go back. Go back and really treasure every second.  
  
Zayn opens his eyes now, walks over to Niall so he’s looking directly in Niall’s face. “I’m right here. You miss how I behaved before the accident. You know I have no capacity for emotion, now that I _understand_. I’ve told you, time and time again, you are free to find–”  
  
“I don’t _want_ to find someone else!! Fuckin' hell, Zayn, don’t you get it? I want _you_ , I want you to want me too! I want how it was before, I want to sleep together and not feel like I’m lying with a robot! I want _us_ back. I…” Niall runs out of steam, face blotchy red and tear-stained. He wipes his cheeks with one shirt sleeve as he tries to get his breath back.  
  
Zayn waits until Niall is somewhat composed. “You know our relationship will never be as it once was. I have the capacity to do so much. I did once care for you, but I am certain that I would not be able to satisfy you. I would constantly be disappointing you.” Niall can’t even see him anymore through his tears, but he doesn’t deny anything. “You were closer to me than anyone else, and I hardly feel anything for you now.”  
  
Niall’s knees buckle at that, falls to his knees in the alien dust. “I do apologize. The memories I have of us are objectively pleasant, if it’s any consolation.”  
  
“Send me home.” Niall croaks.  
  
“Are we done talk–”  
  
“Send. Me. Home.” Niall’s voice cracks on the last word, and Zayn knows that, for the moment, he’s finished the productive part of the discussion. He makes a moue, but begins folding space-time.

After Niall goes through the wormhole, and Zayn cleans up after himself, there is silence on the planet. Complete, engulfing silence. Zayn doesn’t need to breathe, so he doesn’t; just floats with his eyes closed and contemplates. Plays with possibilities and potentials.  
  
He definitely doesn’t get a lump in his throat, and it isn’t because of Niall.

**Author's Note:**

> haha yeah… this happened. i put it in the watchmen fandom tag because… technically? i guess? anyway.
> 
> tumblr is notafraidof!


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